From alt.pub.dragons-inn Tue Mar 15 23:16:34 1994
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From: rev2@po.CWRU.Edu (Robert E. Vogel)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: REPOST: [Azend/Zjiria] Riding Home
Date: 15 Mar 1994 03:56:58 GMT
Organization: Case Western Reserve University, Cleveland, OH (USA)
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References: <2m34or$mr6@usenet.INS.CWRU.Edu> <2m38d9$t0j@usenet.INS.CWRU.Edu> <2m397g$10s@usenet.INS.CWRU.Edu>
Reply-To: rev2@po.CWRU.Edu (Robert E. Vogel)
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ADMIN:	The following a reposting of a story a while back.  This thread
runs parallel to the [Zjiria/Azend] thread.  Azend, the races used in this
thread, and this story are copyrighted by Robert Vogel, 1993.

***

>	"Yet you managed to slay a village full of Baals."
>	"This?  Hah!  This was just a Baal outpost.  We killed only seven
Baals, the rest were old families and friends, even some travellers who
came too near the Baals and were...
>	"Well.  I'm certain you understand."

	The Domaeki finished burning the outpost and turned away from it. 
Several Domaeki gave Sarken the torques they had taken from the bodies of
their fallen comrades.  Like the other Domaeki, Sarken held these items 
in reverence.  They were made of all different types of metals, some even
mixtures of metals entwined.
	Without a word, the Domaeki turned their backs to the now
low fire and left.  As Sarken had mentioned earlier, there were more horses
than riders now, and I had a shaggy, stout horse that seemed oblivious to
much of the world.  He was slow and unenthusiastic, but for that was also 
gentle and calm.  My skill at horsemanship was less than adequate, so this
choice of steeds was well suited for me.
	The Domaeki travelled without a word, except a few comments, maybe
a question between themselves.  They were alert to the world, and as I
found, very alert to me.  Havian was never far from me the entire trip, his 
glare set deep in my back.  He was not the only one, as many times I caught a 
Domaeki looking straight at me, watching me.  When I caught his eye, he
continued to look levelly at me, unabashed and suspicious.  Uncomfortable, my 
own gaze would drop, yet I would feel him continuing to observe me.
	Many possibilities to this, I mused.  First, they are extremely
suspicious, but I believe such thoughts are perhaps a bit rude, regardless
that they are correct.  Second, I am strange.  On viewing my outstanding
outfit and choice of headgear, I must also dismiss that one on the grounds of
possibly being vain.  Third, I have spiders crawling up my body which only
they can see.  Nasty, ugly things, they must be making my poor hosts terribly 
hungry.  Fourth, they believe that I am going to crack and wish to by
eyewitness to this fascinating event.
	Wisely, I choose the fourth.  Throwing back my head, I howled and
laughed, great and aloud.  Instantly, the horses leapt back from me; my own
horse started and pranced.  The Domaeki regained control over their mounts, 
then gaped, open-mouthed at me.  Seeing that I had satisified them, that I
had indeed cracked, I shut up and watched the back of my horse's head.
	After a moment's pause, Sarken cleared his throat and asked, "What,
in the name of the Dark Ones, was that all about?"
	Remarkably, I kept a straight face as I said, "It is my culture's
way of expressing thanks for being in such enlightening and social
companionship."	The entire band of Domaeki stared at me.  Then, one at a
time, they turned their horses back and continued on the way.
	Now I surely cannot think of myself as being strange for reasons of
vanity.  Nor can I think of them as been strange for reasons of politeness.
Therefore what I was experiencing was a clash of culture.
	For the sake of my horse, I whispered in its ear, "Worry of my
sanity is unneccessary, surefooted one, for I am merely different and none
the worse for it."
	In reply, my horse snorted to let me know what he thought of that. 
The nearby Domaeki dropped back or moved ahead to let other Domaeki
reluctantly ride beside me.

	We rode most of the rest of the day.  Although I was never told,
the distinct feeling of homeward bound came to mind.  The Domaeki seemed
anticipating, eager as time grew by.  By my calculations, the Domaeki
home was close enough that the Baal outpost was several hours ride away.  They
must have left sometime in the night or early morning, rode until early
afternoon, and then figured the attack would take an hour or two.  Then
they would be able to come back around evening.
	My predictions developed correctly, for as the sight of another
beside me became only a gray outline on black background, a cry of delight
came up from Sarken, immediately followed by the rest of the Domaeki.
Their horses reigned up in the air, pawing, then as one, they all gallopped.
Even my calm and placid horse was swept away by the excitement and 
gallopped with the rest, unmerciful to my dignity or posterior.
	I wrapped my arms around his neck, hoping my horse was sure-footed
on the rocky and uneven ground.  To blot out my slight discomfort, I closed
my eyes, tightly, and tried to think of pleasant thoughts.
	It did not succeed.
	To make for more interesting, and pleasant, passage of time, I will
skip over the short eternity of discomfort that followed.  When my horse
finally stopped I opened my eyes to take my first view of the Domaeki camp.
	(I later found out that a nearby Domaeki grabbed my horse's mane
and slowed him down that way.  One of the interesting things about Domaeki
horses is they are ridden without reins.  Inansta horses are ridden on 
saddle and reins; Domaeki horses have blankets and are guided by the knees
of the riders.  I have heard of such things, but never did I think that
I would see this with my own eyes.)
	Such a sight!  A bustle of men and women meeting, talking,
laughing,  horses prancing, children nearby with happy smiles.  A festival
was in the air, and yet, a seriousness I could feel.
	It had nothing to do with me.  In fact, I was fairly ignored. 
Well, ignored for the Domaeki, as only half a dozen hovered around me,
peering suspiciously out of the corner of an eye each.
	Then I noticed the air of distance around each Domaeki.  Even the
fathers of the children, for I assumed it was such, did not get closer than
arm's stretch away.  Couples moved together slowly, carefully, watching every 
move for a poisonous strike instead of a loving embrace.
	Another disturbance was the abundance of shown weapons.  Children
with bows and arrows or spears, or women with exposed blades were
everywhere in the village.  The men varied; some rested a hand on the hilt
of a sheathed sword, others waved their swords about wildly in the 
air while wildly telling a story, and still others rested on it.  Even Sarken, 
although he did not touch his sword, appeared to be ready to strike if anyone
made any sudden move.
	The village itself was somewhat small, and consisted mostly of
tents.  The tents were all supported by a long pole in the center and four
corner poles.  Often a tent would have two more poles to hold up a flap as 
entrance.  The tents were a myriad of colors, but all were very ornate in 
style.  Even the most shabby had several colors in an design depicting the
mountains, the sky, and raining blackness (whatever it was, I wasn't quite
certain, and was never told).
	(I later found out that this was one of fourteen villages, although
it was the most important one.  It numbered two hundred, although I was
told they never counted those who couldn't fight.)
	In the middle of the village was a clearing where all social events
occured.  To one side of the clearing was a well kept coral where all the
horses were cared and guarded.  On a side next to the coral but all by itself 
was the biggest tent of them all.  All around the rest of the clearing was
all the other tents.
	Looking closely at the coral, I could see that the horses were kept
in by a fairly high fence.   However, the several gates all around make it
obvious that if alarm was sounded, the Domaeki could quickly get to their
mounts and get them out of the coral in moments.
	For this I was glad to note, for the village was such that the
mounts were all around.  Without the horses, an attack would leave the
Domaeki for the slaughter.  Plenty of ways out of the village lead to easy
paths up to more defensively positions, but without a horse, the person would
be a slow moving target.
	I awoke from my musing when Sarken laughed, startling close to me.
	"Well, my friend Azend, have you seen your liking yet?  Come, we
prepare for the celebration!"

***
ADMIN: Once again, comments, questions, and flames respected.

-- 
I would think that I was dead but for the pain...
     ---Rabied Rat's Revenge